The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing
by Annamonk
Summary: Theo, Hermione, fairy tales, and magic. It's not my field of snow, but I do love to make snow angels.
1. Yule

Theodore Nott stood and politely sipped his champagne. It was swill. Elf made wine was superior in every way, but that didn't matter. The Ministry was courting muggle born opinions again. Why that meant using muggle beverages was beyond him. He glanced around the room. The decorations were cheap and showed how little the old ways were valued.

He did not believe it was the muggleborns and their cultural influence to blame. Those beliefs that had so held his father in thrall were the excuses of a generation of feeble minded milquetoasts. They were sheep.

Magic called for wolves. Magic was predatory and protective. Their society had forgotten to respect it. Their bonds to it were weakening. His own father had lost faith and been ejected from their family magic. Azkaban hardly seemed punishment enough.

He'd stood within his family's circle last night and called forth the power. It coursed through him. He could feel it in everything he did. It burned exquisitely.

He took another sip of his drink and watched the oath breaker slide into the arms of her lover. He had warned her and schooled her on the traditions of his family to no avail. His fiancée had jumped into bed with Draco Malfoy. He watched Daphne twirl in his friend's arms. She was lovely to behold, but she would never be his wife.

He didn't mourn her. She had been a witch, not the witch. Her dance partner was the blow.

Draco had taken what was his. In a simple act of selfishness, the boy he had loved as a friend had become a man he would have to punish.

There was only one thing Draco Malfoy wanted that was beyond his reach. Theo smirked. It seemed only fair for Draco to be forced to watch as he strolled off with her.

Hermione Granger was wearing green. An unusual choice in her set, but she looked lovely. The gown was temptation itself, hinting without ever revealing. She was perfect.

Granger moved around the party with the hard won self confidence of a warrior. She wasn't a delicate flower or a twittering bird. She was magic poured into a body, and he wanted her. He felt the wildness clawing in him. The magic had to be contained for now, but it wouldn't be long.

He put down his flute and moved toward her.

"May I have this dance?" Theo bowed slightly to her and ignored her annoying cadre of friends.

"I suppose." She examined him closely.

"I'm not Imperiused." He grinned. "I merely wish to dance with the most remarkable witch in the room."

"Augusta Longbottom is over by the bar." Hermione smirked as he slid them into perfect frame and started to waltz her around the room.

"Don't play." He frowned. "You know what I meant."

"I'm not one for flattery." She laughed as he lifted her and spun to send them on a different course around the floor.

"Are you playing at being coy?" He felt his magic sliding along his skin.

"If we had but world enough and time." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"This coyness, lady, would be no crime." Theo finished. "My mother loved muggle poetry. It won't make you seem more mysterious to me. My father moved the books to the nursery after she died. He couldn't part with them, but he couldn't look at them. I still go there to read them."

Hermione squeezed his arm gently. He knew she was offering comfort, knew that her fierce force of nature persona masked a soft heart and a kind soul. He knew it, and he felt a deep relief sweep through him.

She was more than a witch, more than revenge.

"You've given yourself over to your magic." She looked up at him intently. "I feel it."

"The bonds must be renewed." Theo shrugged.

"No one else feels this way." She rubbed her fingers along his shoulder as she followed him through an intricate turn. "I can feel the power in you. It makes my skin tingle."

"Most of the others don't keep the old ways." He swallowed. The questions would start soon. She was too intelligent to let herself fall into this.

"You're here traditionally?" Hermione met his gaze. He could see the magic in her in the snap of topaz fire lighting her eyes.

"I am." He spread his fingers wide against her back. "Is it true the muggles have a story about this?"

"Cinderella." She nodded. "She goes to the ball and meets her true love."

"It used to be a common story in the magical world, but things change." Theo fought the urge to forge ahead. He needed it to be her choice.

"You were supposed to marry Daphne Greengrass." She turned her face away from him, but the flush on her cheeks gave her away. She'd noticed him before this night.

"She chose another path." He spun them unexpectedly and enjoyed the quick press of her body against his. "It wasn't a love match. Love isn't a requirement of the magic. Compatibility is enough."

"But you're here." She looked up at his again. Her eyes moving quickly as they searched his face.

"I want love." He pulled her an inch closer. "I gave myself over to my magic in hopes that I would find love."

"That's not the whole story." She chewed on her lush lower lip.

"No." Theo sighed. "Does it matter?"

He felt her magic rise up and swirl around him like the damned bubbles in that muggle champagne. The music faded in and out as they moved. He could see trails of light being left in their wake.

"Someday, you will tell me." She smiled, wide and wild. "So, it doesn't matter."

"You've given yourself over to your magic as well." He took a deep breath.

"Yes. It saved me." She stroked the skin above his collar with her fingertips. "Bellatrix couldn't break me."

"You've been living with it for years." Goddess, she was stronger than he'd thought.

"It kept me from frivolous relationships and makes me a bit less tolerant of fools, but it wasn't all bad." She grinned. "I've been able to study extensively."

She flicked her hand in the air and glowing trails behind them grew brighter. He looked at the pattern on the floor and recognized it. It was a map of his stone circle.

"I believe we have somewhere to be." She patted his shoulder. "It's your turn to be impressive."

He looked at the map and spun them into the center even as he spun them through the ether into the real circle. The stones ringed them, dark and brooding against the glowing white snow outside the circle. Hermione was looking about in rapt fascination, but she didn't stumble as they continued their dance. Inside the circle the grass was green and lush from his ritual. The snow would return when he kept the promises he'd made.

"You've been living like this for years." He shook his head. "How did you do it without an anchor?"

"Some days I didn't." She pulled them to a stop, and slid her hands into his, holding their joined appendages between them. "Some days I burned with it. I've developed several enhanced wards over the last few years. Guarding my privacy kept me from turning to my friends. It hasn't been easy. I turned my power toward learning. It's easy enough to bury yourself in books."

"Do you want this?" He waved his hand around the circle.

"I want you. You come with this. I'm not afraid of responsibility." She squeezed his fingers lightly. "I know you wanted me to tweak Malfoy, but I think you see the possibilities now."

"You're my Aschenputtel." He pulled her close and pinned their hands between their bodies. Her eyes sparkled with reflected moonlight. Her breath was warm on his skin. It was a moment. He knew that this was the last time he would be a truly singular entity. He lowered his lips and paused just short of touching hers.

"There's only one first kiss." He felt her shiver in anticipation. It was enough.

He closed the manager distance between them. Her lips were soft, and they parted slightly as she welcomed him.

Their magic flared in bright arcs around them, but he didn't want to rush this first. He felt a tremor run through her body and enjoyed the tiny sound that escaped from deep in her throat. Her fingers tightened on his as she pressed her body closer and completely trapped their hands between them. He felt the soft caress of her hair as it fell victim to the light breeze.

The light and cool breeze.

He'd kept his promise to return with a witch worthy of his family's magic, a witch capable of keeping faith.

He broke the kiss and stood staring down into the wide eyes of his future. Her body rose slightly with each deep breath she dragged into her lungs. She was glorious in the moonlight.

"The Nott family tied itself to the magic of the winter solstice before we kept records. The men are always drawn to the dark. We are the night. He slid one hand from hers and traced a finger along her cheek. We name our children in this circle. We keep the faith and in our twenty first year, we come here and give ourselves over to the magic." He took a breath and glanced up at the irregular stones surrounding them. "It's no easy thing. My father didn't hold with it. He didn't find his anchor. My mother was a great beauty from an impoverished family. She wasn't strong. She had no chance at stopping him. He rejected all counsel and joined Voldemort. The magic held on in him long enough for me to be named, but then, in a drunken stupor, he killed my mother because she was reading sonnets."

"You were in the room." Hermione surrounded his one hand with the warmth of her own.

"It's the only clear memory I have of her face." Theo looked back at Hermione. "There was no way I would join the death eaters. I didn't want to be a monster, but I've lived in the dark for a very long time."

"I can handle your darkness." She released his and and stepped closer to him. "I've done a great deal of research on this as you might imagine. I'm not actively tied to any high holiday or it's assorted deities. I'm free to be the light that warms you. We will have to celebrate Christmas and Easter as well though. My parents don't much care for anything that comes from a pantheon."

"We should have a formal bonding ceremony for family and friends." Theo held his breath. This was the point where she might balk.

"Something lavish and ridiculously over the top. Perhaps you could ask Draco to stand next to Harry and Neville as your groomsmen?" She arched a brow. "That might be fun. Of course, there's always the cleaner route."

Theo examined his suddenly seemingly Slytherin witch and tried not to look shocked. She spun away from him in a wide flare of skirts with her arms outstretched. Her bubbling laughter made him smile.

"Write them thank you notes. Make it seem like they cleared the way for you to be with your true love. Give them credit for being far more conniving and noble than they are. It's all in the turn of phrase." Hermione grinned at him. "Then we twist the knife with the wedding. Just for fun, mind you. Less need for the ridiculous that way."

"It's not a lie." Theo came to stand by the stone, facing her. "You are my true love."

"Yes." She tilted her head. "Our magic seems to have gotten it right."

"Are you ready?" He cupped her chin. "One dance and one kiss aren't much in the way of a courtship."

"I'm tired of waiting." Hermione put her hand against his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart beating. "Are you ready?"

"Are there holly bushes everywhere on the property?" She smirked.

"A fair share, but there is an oak grove as well with a smaller circle of stones within it." He let her chin go. "My mother visited there often, I'm told."

"I'm sure, Theodore Spenser Nott." She grinned up at him. "I did say I'd researched."

He held his hands palm up, and she did the same. Three cleansing breaths helped him find his place in the swirling power of his magic. He spoke the words quickly, and saw the four cuts on their palms well with blood.

"Touch the stone with one hand and clasp mine with the other." He slapped his palm against the rock and waited for Hermione to do the same. He jerked as her fingers brushed his free hand first.

"I join my life to yours." She laced her fingers through his and gripped his hand. "I join my magic to yours to defend this house and its traditions."

He swallowed as her hand slapped against the stone and he felt it tremor. The eroded markings flared as light sparked within the stone. She'd offered herself. By going first she'd added more power to the union. He looked at her closely in the flickering magical fire. The words came to him.

"I will shelter you always. My heart and my magic will be your home. I will travel with you at my side. Always together, two as one." It wasn't the elegant poetry he'd planned to recite for his bride, but it was honest.

"Always together, two as one." She looked up and he saw the snow flakes settle on her lashes.

The stones rang like bells as each lit with internal fire. Snow swirled about in lazy circles on its trek to the ground. Hermione's gaze flicked toward the stones before she turned toward him with a wide smile.

"I think your stones are showing off." Hermione squeezed his hand.

"Their our stones now." He pulled his hand free from the monolith and turned it palm up to reveal the unblemished skin. "I believe there is a traditional kiss we're neglecting."

Then she was in his arms, kissing him again. The world spun around as their magic became one entity. The careening wildness of his magic settled into balance. He pulled her body up against his and swirled them about the circle. Each stone rang out as they neared it.

The snow covered the ground filling in their footsteps almost as quickly as they were made. Theo pulled her close to him. He felt light and joyous. His magic had found him the perfect mate.

"I have an invitation to the Malfoy's Yuletide ball." Hermione tucked her head against his chest. "Do you want to go?"

"I'm suddenly not that interested." Theo shrugged. "My ballroom is larger, and we will have it all to ourselves."

"But we could announce our formal wedding ceremony in June." Hermione smirked as he spun her quickly. "I think the summer solstice would be a great time for it. Then we could dance in the oak grove's circle."

"I'm still not going to that stuffy bit of Malfoy pomp." He pulled her tight against him. "You're my wife by ancient rite. I want to spend the next few days worshipping at your altar."

"I like dancing. I want a partner, not a servant." She stroked her hand down his chest. "Do we have to consummate this here or we can we retire to a bed?"

"The house is up those stairs." Theo tilted his head toward the dark stone steps. They'd be icy this time of year. "It'd be better to apparate."

"Then, why are we still here?" She smacked his chest lightly.


	2. Imbolc

Daphne Greengrass sat comfortably at the vanity and fixed her hair into a perfect chignon. She turned her head from side to side, verifying her perfect appearance. The small gems scattered through her hair sparkled. Her features were dramatically enhanced with a few quick spells. She ran her hands along the square neck of her moss green gown. Her reflection was no lie. She was stunning.

Draco would be pleased. She'd eschewed the expected gown colors for the unmarried. There would be no pink or peach on her, and they could keep their virginal white. The older, bolder women in their orange and red would be nothing more than blur. She would stand out.

"You shouldn't do this." Astoria shook her head. "Father won't like it."

"You're just upset that you have to wear that sweet little pink number." Daphne grinned at her sister. "Is it hard being on the market?"

"Daphne, don't do this." Astoria frowned. "The Malfoy contract hasn't been changed. He still my future husband. Making a spectacle of yourself won't win Draco's parents over, and Theo found someone else after you violated your contract with him. You could wind up alone."

"You be the good girl. I'm tired of it." Daphne grabbed her cloak and pulled it on. Her dress was concealed nicely. Her sister looked dejected as she passed her. "Hurry up, Tory. We don't want to keep our father waiting."

The ride in the proper carriage was silent. Her father glared daggers at her. He was still angry about her throwing away a solid relationship with Theo. She smirked and looked out the window. The Parkinson's did have the most bucolic property.

"Astoria, you may dance with your intended if you wish. Any other man must ask permission from me." Her father's deep baritone filled the carriage. "Your sister might enjoy making a scene, but it won't serve you or this family."

"I understand." Daphne could see the reflection of her sister demurely nodding. "May I dance with Theo if he asks?"

"He won't ask." Daphne rolled her eyes. "He'll show up with this supposed fiancée dance once and disappear into the night. It's what he did at Yule. It's what he will do now."

"I wouldn't be so sure, daughter." Her mother's soft words seemed at odds with the mood of their fellow passengers. "If he danced only once and left, he may well have found his match. It's a shame you weren't witch enough."

"I'm witch enough not to tie myself down to a wizard that chooses hidebound traditionalism over living life." Daphne turned and met her mother's eyes and caught sight of the tears that remained unshed. "I will live my life on my own terms."

"We are not so free." Daphne's father sighed. "Magic comes with responsibilities. It's easy to be led astray. It's easy to be feckless. You've broken your word and ours without a thought or care. It would serve you well to tread lightly."

The coach descended into silence again. Daphne shifted uneasily against the cushions. A sense of foreboding rose up as they came closer to their destination. A young witch was heading in through the opened double doors. The soft peach of her gown was charming in the warm glow of the lanterns, and Daphne felt a twinge of regret.

They disembarked without breaking their silence. She heard her mother and father move forward to greet their hosts. It was as it ever was, and she felt the rebelliousness rise again.

She caught sight of Draco and saw his eyes flash liquid silver in the light. She managed to conceal her smirk and dropped her cloak to the waiting elf. She felt free and wild for a moment, but then she saw the looks of displeasure on every face around them.

Draco moved toward her and her heart skipped a beat. He would twirl her about on the dance floor, and all would be well. She looked down to make sure the fall of her skirt was smooth and to hide her relief that rescue was coming.

"You look divine, Astoria." Draco's voice hit her ears and dragged her eyes up.

"You broke an oath." Her father cupped her shoulder from behind. "This dress isn't helping matters, but no respectable family will let their son near you now."

"It was an engagement." Daphne looked up to her father and couldn't hide the bewildered girl inside from his knowing eyes. "They get broken all the time."

"They do." He sighed. "Properly. Magic comes at a cost. Tonight, you will sit and watch others dance. Only family will talk with you. Only Nott's forgiveness can save you now."

She sat down in the chair to which her father escorted her and watched her sister twirl about in Draco's arms. They looked perfect together. He'd made her no promises. His words were twisted and turned about, but he'd broken no oaths. She dropped her gaze to her lap. Her finger nails were perfect. She'd spent so much time preparing to sit forgotten as others danced by her.

She felt her mother settle next to her. She wanted to curl against her and cry like a little girl.

"You were raised in a society that had been broken. We were afraid to teach you." Her mother shook her head. "We continued the traditions, but we didn't explain. If Riddle had won, none of it would have mattered."

"I don't understand." Daphne looked up at her mother.

"Why did Riddle look like a monster?" Her mother fussed with her fan.

"Dark magic had changed him." Daphne watched as her mother traced her fingers along each individual stake.

"Dark magic didn't make Grindelwald look like a monster." She traced the embroidered silk design on the fan's face slowly. "He looked ever more beautiful."

"What are you saying?" Daphne watched as the fan snapped shut again in her mother's hands.

"I am saying that you should hope with all your being that Theo forgives you for breaking an oath. When you break with your magic, it shows. It will mark you and you will find no respectable match. Sit here and think on what kind of person you wish to be."

Daphne watched her mother call to her father with a quick flick of her fan. He arrived with a glass of lemonade which he handed to her without a word before sweeping his mother off into the swirling flow of the waltz. She watched as Draco spun her sister through elaborate quadrilles, as Pansy glided by on the arm of Adrian Pucey, as the whole of her world spun away from her. She felt the magic of the room brush by her and flow passed her. It never pulled at her or swirled around her. The glass of lemonade warmed in her hand and never touched her lips.

The night was nearly half over when she felt the shift. Theo Nott strode into the room in his perfect black dress robes with a red bow tie and a matching waistcoat over a shirt of white lawn. He looked stunningly handsome. She'd never really noticed how beautiful he was. He'd always been there, a part of the plan her parents had made.

His chosen witch stood beside him. She wore a white gown that revealed a smooth back of golden skin. Her wild cascade of brindled curls was held back with mithril combs decorated with rubies. She'd yet to see her face and already felt dowdy in her inappropriate dress.

Theo had gone off and found a goddess to replace her. She looked up at the face she'd never realized was so handsome and saw how he looked at his witch. This stranger was his whole world.

She glanced toward Draco and her sister. His pleased smile told her everything. He'd freed his friend. He'd flirted and played the cad, but she hadn't resisted. She'd hurt her sister and her family. Draco had hurt Astoria as well as Theo, but he'd had a noble reason. He'd been saving his best friend from her.

She looked back to see the witch that had been deemed worthy.

The familiar features of Hermione Granger smiled up into Theo's eyes. There was so much joy radiating from her. The music changed and the pair set of into the waltz. Her dress flared out as pleats revealed shades of red and orange chasing up the pristine white. They appeared to be dancing in the warming fire. She watched as they spun and other dancers slid from the floor until they were spinning circles within circles alone on the floor.

She lowered her eyes. Watching them seemed an affront to their magic. She felt it brush passed her as they moved closer, but she didn't look up.

The music faded away, the usual noise of the party roared back, and she sat.

"It was supposed to be you." Hermione Granger stood a few paces away from her. The folds of her dress settled, showing only pristine white once more. "So, I think we can make this quite a bit easier on you."

"I broke my word." Daphne couldn't meet Granger's eyes. "You aren't supposed to talk with me."

"I understand the social dictates." The witch moved a step closer to her. "My beloved was wronged by you. Your fate rests in his hands."

"He won't save me." Daphne shook her head.

"Of course not." Granger stepped closer still. "You must save yourself. Give yourself over to your magic, and he shall forgive you."

"But that could mean years." Daphne finally met the gaze of the witch before her. There was no kindness in it.

"You had condemned him to such a fate." Granger's eyes flashed and the rubies at her neck seemed to glow. "My existence does not free you from responsibility for your crime."

"I'm not sure how to do it." Daphne slumped and dropped her gaze.

"If you figure it out, he will forgive you with one dance." Hermione swirled away and revealed the hidden flames of her dress again.

Daphne watched as different couples passed by her. Some moved with elegance, others with purpose. Some seemed at war while others were obviously at peace. Then she saw them.

Theo and Hermione.

They floated around the room. Each sweeping circle added magic to the room. She could feel it just under her skin. She knew it would burn her, but she let her self slip away into her magic.

It surged up and she felt like a star must, burning and sparking alone.

Goddess, she had never felt so alone.

She forced her eyes open and looked at the vibrant being in front of her. Her magic rose up to greet him, but crashed against a solid wall.

"I don't belong to you." Theo frowned at her. "I know how overwhelming this is, but you only get one dance."

Daphne nodded. There weren't words. This was what she'd been running from, and, now, when she finally understood and longed for it, it was gone.

He held his hand out, and she clasped it lightly.

"How did you know?" Daphne blinked up at him as he guided her around the room.

"Active magic has a power of its own. You'll learn to sense it. The magic is almost dormant in most of the attendees here. They access so little of it." He frowned. "I would advise you to do research. Hermione might help you. She is oddly grateful that you broke faith with me."

They moved about the dance floor in a precise and careful way. He never looked at her. When the last note faded, he released her.

Hermione glided up next to him. She saw their magic flare in a shimmering golden shower as they touched. It was beautiful.

"I like your gown." Hermione smiled at her. "Stay clear of the punch. It's awful."

"I'll do that." Daphne nodded before looking down to see her gown was now a lovely shade of peach. She spun about and watched the fabric swirl. She looked up to see them already moving together in the steps of the next dance.

She felt her magic move around her and an odd feeling surged up within her.

It felt like hope.


	3. Ostara

Augusta Longbottom listened as her son and his friends talked and laughed with the exuberance of youth, but her eyes were caught on the quiet man standing apart from them. He was wearing a pale green muggle style suit with a grey tie that had a subtle diamond pattern. Many of the young wizards were dressed similarly. It wasn't the clothing that drew her eyes.

It was the gentle aura of his power. He stood tall and true under the gracefully swaying fronds of the weeping willow as if he belonged there.

She walked along the path and stepped into the grass next to him. They stood beside each other for a handful of breaths before he angled his body to face her. She smiled up at him.

"You look lovely today, Lady Longbottom." He bowed slightly with the exacting courtesy so few of the young men bothered with these days.

"I look like an old woman should. I've done hard work and good spell craft in my years, but the spring rites don't have the same pull on these old bones as they once did." She smirked. "Your mother would have been proud of the man you've become."

"I hope so." Theodore Nott tilted his head toward the delighted laughter of his bride. The man was clearly besotted.

"I had hoped Neville might see sense and snap her up, but you're better for her." Augusta patted his hand. "You balance her nicely."

She watched the quirk of his lips and the tightening of his eye. He was such a Slytherin. Just like her pater had been. It was always fun to Slytherins with bold statements. This young man was no exception.

"Hermione needs someone to put her first." Augusta turned her face toward the young witch. Hermione stood in the center of the group with a yellow dress flowing around her. The small hair clips that sparkled in her hair matched the ornate brooch on her cardigan in a swirl of peridot, citrine, and amethyst. She was lovely. "You'll have a job keeping the wolves from your door."

"She's rather fond of wolves." Theo shrugged. "I think I need to mind the house because she'll let them in to build their den. The elves would probably help her, anything to keep their new mistress from grabbing her knitting needles."

Augusta tried. She truly did, but she couldn't hold in the peal of laughter that sprang out into the spring air from deep within her. She saw Neville turn and check on her and waved off his obvious concern.

"Hermione assures me that you are by far the most fascinating witch I shall ever have the honor to meet." The young lordling tilted his head slightly, and she caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. "I must learn to trust my wife's noted judgement. She is clearly always correct."

"Flattery is a common enough tool in the Slytherin repertoire." Augusta smirked up at the young wizard before her. "My son and grandson belong to the lion. My husband was a badger through and through. I caused that dratted old hat no end of consternation before I went to Rowena's house, but I learned a great deal at my father's very Slytherin knee."

"It is a wonderful tool made all the more powerful by the truth of it." Theo smirked and bent slightly at the waist before extending his hand. His perfect courtly behavior amused her to no end. "A dance, my lady?"

"We are not in a ballroom." Augusta sniffed even as she placed her hand in his. It had been years since she had done anything so carefree as gadding about in a field of crocus flowers on the arm of a young man.

"But of course we are." He grinned at her. She felt his magic surge out and guide them in a first tentative turn around the field. They never stumbled or caught a root.

"There is no music." She smirked up at him even as he twirled her about with the ease of a well schooled scion.

"But of course there is." He flicked his fingers and the breeze picked up. It wafted through the trees and set off the wind chimes that her husband had hung in the branches of the willow.

"I suppose there is, after all." She grinned up at the young wizard and let herself enjoy the moment. It was bliss to feel the magic of the spring rise around her. Life renewed in the burgeoning warmth of the sun. She closed her eyes and let the magic flare within her.

She was dancing once more with her father, little girl with her hair braided through with flowers perched upon her father's bare feet. She took a deep breath and felt her husband's familiar grip at her waist. She chased that feeling. Gods, it had been so long. The security of his love. She spun and remembered little hands grasped in hers as she whirled her son about for the joy of it. She felt them all, all of them with her still. It was glorious.

The world turned and the magic welled up with life again. She felt her own magic break out of her and seek the replenishing joy of the land. She felt it flow back into her even as her partner slowed.

She opened her eyes and blinked. For just a moment, she'd expected to see one of her men, but Theo Nott smiled at her as they glided to a halt.

"May I cut in?" Neville clapped his hand on her partner's shoulder.

"Should I yield to this knave?" Theo quirked a brow and waited for her response with the air of an affronted suitor.

"Any lady should be spoiled with such choices." Augusta smiled at both of the young wizards. "But I do believe your lady wife awaits. Thank you for the dance, Lord Nott."

She watched him go and claim Hermione from her friends. The witch quirked a brow and smiled as the pair communicated without words. The young couple spun out into the field leaving a trail of tiny blooming flowers in their wake. She could feel the magic in the land reaching out. Hermione and her Theo were calling it with mout effort. They didn't need some complicated ritual.

They were so obviously in love, though she doubted Neville and his friends perceived it. Young Nott was pure Slytherin and, as such, unlikely to reveal his private thoughts or feelings. Hermione wasn't quite as circumspect, but the war had given her a confidence that coupled with her natural reticence left her somewhat difficult to read.

"I didn't think they'd come." Neville stumbled over a root. "He dragged her to The Parkinson's. I thought he didn't care much for us."

"They're building a life together. Let Potter and Weasley gnash their teeth. Be better than that." She patted his shoulder gently. "He may not understand the way you young people carry on, but he will adjust for her."

"She was hurt so badly." Neville swallowed and glanced towards the drifting trails of the willow branches. "I don't want to see her used or hurt again."

"That girl would burn the world to ash before she let that happen, but he'd revive it and make it bleed slowly." Augusta smirked up at her grandson. "Watch his eyes and the tips of his fingers. See how he caresses her waist. See how his eyes light when she laughs. He loves her."

"You're sure?" Neville stumbled again as he tried to watch them.

"I'm sure." She pushed her magic out and helped her grandson find a path that was less dangerous. "They have both given over to their magic. I can feel it. Reach out with your power and see if you can."

She watched her grandson and felt the trickle of his magic push out like the tendril of one of his plants. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. It was adorable to see the wonder light in his eyes. He was still her little boy caught in the wonder of magic.

"Nobody does that anymore." Neville frowned. "I know you did. Mom and Dad did, too. But, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to risk my magic not being strong enough."

"Neville, you are a great wizard." She dragged them to a halt and cupped his cheek with her hand. "Your magic will not betray you. It won't hurt you. This is your day. Longbottom power flows best as the world renews."

"I don't want to lose myself." Neville shrugged.

"Do they look lost to you?" Augusta looked over at Hermione and Theo. "I think they look confident and comfortable. I think they are keeping to the old ways while forging a new path."

Augusta watched her grandson as his jaw worked. He wasn't as impetuous as most of his friends. He stepped back from her and bowed formally before stalking over toward Hannah Abbott. The blonde witch smiled up at him and took his hand. They were quite handsome together, both tall and elegant, one light and one dark. They balanced each other well.

They were two circuits of the field into their dance when a bright flash of amber light flared around them as Neville gave himself over to his magic and Hannah followed suit. She saw her grandson's face bloom with wonder as they continued to spin and twirl.

There would be a wedding to plan.

Augusta grinned as the land around her surged with the sudden flare of magic and new life. Her family would continue on secure and powerful. A sense of peace that had been missing since her son and his beloved were lost to madness flowed around her. She let her own magic flutter out and felt the brief touch of her husband's power that lingered in the land. It was more than a bittersweet moment. She watched the two couples feeding power into the land even as it restored them. She smiled and blinked away the tears. This was a day for joy.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note**_

 _I know this is late. I've been ill. I will try to keep true to schedule in the following chapters. Hopefully, you will forgive me this late installment._


	4. Beltane

Ronald Weasley was not happy. Being back at Hogwarts for Beltane and the Remembrance was not easy. The place made him jumpy. He wanted to get lost in the good memories, but the bad ones washed over him the moment he set foot on the grounds.

It wasn't pleasant to stand on the parapet of the Astronomy Tower and survey the grounds. He glared down at the green hills and blooming flowers. It was a nice enough day, but warm sunshine wasn't enough to overcome the chill inside. Nothing could.

He'd found his way up here to get away from his family. They had all been here to help with the rebuilding, made their peace with the place. He didn't understand how they could put it away. Fred was gone. So many good people were gone.

He wanted to get away. He wanted no part of it. He felt like a ghost here, like a remnant of the whole being he'd been before the war. He'd had dreams once, but here they turned to nightmares.

The rest of the world seemed to be content. There were children dancing about the maypole winding the ribbons up then reversing their pattern, so the fun continued. The wizards were laying in the long line of the bonfire while the witches adorned the rowan arch with flowers. Professor Flitwick was creating a floating dance floor on the lake with the help of a few former students. The students were running about in their bright colors, free from uniforms. Laughter and common well wishes filled the air. It was a idyllic.

He could see it though. The crumbled buildings and the bloodied bodies, the grey clouds hanging low and angry in the sky, and the odd flashes of curses all around him existed still for him.

The door opened with a creak of the hinges, and he heard the swish of a long skirt. He'd thought it would be Harry. Hermione was always moving these days.

"How are you holding up, Ronald?" Hermione moved to stand beside him. "The first trip back is a hard one."

"Why aren't you off romping with your snake?" Ron grimaced.

"Theo is helping build the fire for tonight." Hermione ignored his insults as she always did. "I bathed in dew this morning with Daphne, Hannah, and Luna. He wasn't with me then either."

"You're never just you anymore." Ron sighed. "Your serpent is draped around you like a pet, but he's a dangerous pet, Mione. You have to see that."

"He's not my pet, and we are all dangerous." Hermione crossed her arms across her stomach. "You'd best keep that in mind. He's good for me. If you're going to rant about my husband, I'll let you be."

"He's not your husband yet." Ron grabbed her shoulder. "You have time to call it off."

"Ron, I've been married to him since Yule." She jerked her shoulder free of his hand. "We will jump the fire tonight. We will make it official for The Ministry at midsummer, but he is mine and I am his. It's that simple."

"How can it be that simple?" Ron focused on her narrowed eyes. "How can you trust him so easily?"

"You refuse to move on. You're still trapped in the war. We didn't fight for hatred. We fought for peace." Her shoulders drooped the tiniest bit as she relaxed. "Your family spilled blood for the cause. How can you spurn their sacrifices so easily?"

"I'm not spurning anything." Ron huffed. "I'm remembering their deaths."

"Try to remember their lives." Hermione flung her arm out and he heard the familiar bark of Fred's laughter for just a second. "Try to live in the world for which they gave everything. try to live in peace and joy. Hoarding your hatred serves no one."

He blinked and she was gone. The echoes of her footsteps on the stairs were all that was left of her presence. Even the familiar scent of her had disappeared. There was no doubt that her magic had taken it, taken the comfort it offered. She'd become a vibrant and ferocious witch, so much more than the comfortable Hermione of his childhood. He considered what she'd had to say and looked back over the parapet.

The sun had changed angles and the shadow of the tower fell differently now. He saw his mother over by the trestle tables. She was decorating them with garlands of flowers. Her hair was covered in blooms that were braided around the crown of her head. She looked twenty years younger than he knew she was. It was probably a glamour.

Harry and Theo were with his brothers adjusting the wood for the fire. They argued and shoved and seemed happy enough. Some other young men joined them. The group grew more raucous until Professor Sprout ran them off to the quidditch pitch.

Something sparkled at the edge of his vision and he turned to bring it into focus. Hermione. She was there braiding flowers in her hair with Luna. The pair of them seemed to spark in his vision like sunlight of the surface of roiled water. He saw Luna toss her head back in laughter and felt his own lips lift slightly. Hermione's quick fingers were setting flowers to dance around the pair.

"They are as happy as they look." His father clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "Hermione told me you might need to talk."

Ron turned and studied his father's face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually taken any note of the changes. His father was the rock of the family. He stood unchanging in the swirl of chaos. Staring at his father Ron felt gobsmacked. Arthur Weasley was a quiet force, but a force all the more powerful for its silence. In the raging storm, this man was the warmth and safety of home.

"This is our holy day." Arthur took a deep breath and blinked. "Weasley magic comes from this, the gift of life and the power of women. We are one with the green man. Fertility is ours. A curse and a blessing. It isn't easy to be the quiet power, but the witch that comes to a Weasley is the spring storm, the bringer of life, the promise of renewal. That is the way."

"How can that be the way? How are we supposed to celebrate here?" Ron gestured wildly around him. "This place is a place of death."

"Death is part of life." Arthur pulled his son into his arms and held him close. The warmth of his tears wet Ron's shirt before he pushed back and held only his arms. "The end is only the end of what we know. Fred is still with me. I hear him every time I hear a child laugh or your mother groan. I see him in all of you. He is still with us. He understood life. He understood joy as your uncles did before him, both my brothers and your mother's. I asked you to let your magic heal you years ago. I asked you to come with us tonight in hopes that you would finally understand. You won't find your joy for life in every willing witch. You will find your joy for life and the right witch will find you. Dance, my boy. Laugh. Remember Fred and live for him. He wouldn't want you to use him as an excuse to become an empty husk of a wizard."

"I'm not some empty thing." Ron shrugged away from his father.

"I know that, Ronald. I know that there is life in you." His father smiled. "The call will come soon. I need to be with your mother."

Ron nodded and watched his father go. The day had all but passed while he'd been standing up here. He looked toward the parapet again, but he couldn't stay. He wandered down the stairs and through the castle. The ghosts smiled their greetings, but they didn't linger or bother him. The students were running through the halls, but they brushed passed him without a care.

He swallowed down the urge to scream. It wouldn't do any good. He was little more than a ghost. He could see it now. In this place, where his world was forever changed, he had forgotten how to live.

He looked at the students as they filed down the halls. Their eager faces drew him. He wanted to feel that again. Anticipation. Longing.

He felt something prick inside him, a small flare of something real.

Then the loud cry erupted outside. It seemed to swell and grow as it traveled. He felt it as it swirled around him. He saw it in the bright eyed children surrounding him.

The call.

For the first time in his life, he let himself feel it. He flowed out of the doors with the students, but he didn't head to the children's entertainment. He saw his father laughing and twirling his mother about with a flower crown already drooping over his ear. He watched the reflection of the flames flicker in their red hair. The call became insistent as he watched them spin with the other dancers. They weren't gliding about over the lake like the students. They were dancing on the very edge of the fire. He saw his brothers and other familiar faces. Harry was laughing as he lifted Gin up into the air. Neville and Hannah were swaying to the beat. He could hear their chants. The music left him oddly suspended between arousal and euphoria. It wasn't that the words were really identifiable, it was the feeling of it. The music pulsed and swirled in discordant movements. The fire cast long writhing shadows. It was decadent.

All the witches were in simple gowns and the men were wearing plain shirts and pants, but flowers adorned them all in a profusion of color. Hermione's green skirt flared out from her legs. He could see anklets of flowers as she stomped her feet. He took a step closer to the dancers. He wanted to watch her. He wanted to understand.

Hermione spun and a long tether of flowers unwound from her arm. Her hair was braided into a long garland of flowers that wrapped around her body. She looked like woodland creature of old far more than the witch he knew. She grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth, and twirled herself back into his arms.

Theo Nott.

He was draped in flowers and crowned with holly leaves. Even as he laughed and stomped his feet, he looked regal. He wasn't tied to some fertility god. He was the protector. He was the wild beating ferocity of magic made flesh.

He was Hermione's.

Together, they were the knife's edge of magic. The storm born of the clash between chaos and control. He could see it as they swung about in joyful abandon. They were enjoying the festivities. Their magic swirled about them in a sparkling show of power. It was beautiful.

"Dance." It was Fred's voice in his ear. He spun around, but there was no sight of his brother.

He felt a hand grab his and followed the pull without looking to see his partner. He looked up to the parapet and saw a flash of light before he was whirled about and spun into the chaos of the dance.

He felt his magic surge up with every stomp of his feet. He spun around the fires partnering with any woman that would hand him a flower. He tucked them into every buttonhole and behind his ears. He cheered when Hermione and Theo jumped over the fire and under the Rowan branch. No twinge of jealousy rose. He reveled. There was no other word for it.

His magic was pulsing and whirling. He could feel it reaching out towards something. The promise of passion and completion and little feet all danced in his magic. His hand caught a pale hand and he felt his power surge. Flowers bloomed out of his clothes and wrapped around her. They helped him drag her close. He looked into her wild eyes and knew. He yanked her close and pressed her against his hard body. Their lips met and clashed. He grabbed her hand and looked toward the fire. She didn't hesitate.

They jumped, and he carried her off into the darkness. He pulled her down in the sweet grass and created a bower with the flick of his hand. She was thin and refined and haughty. He grinned and pressed his lips to hers. He wanted to miss her hair and round her figure with his children.

He felt her fingers ripping at his clothes. Felt her magic sparking all around him. It was right and strong and true.

"We have to have an actual wedding." She whispered against his ear. "Before I'm too round to see my toes."

He pulled back and looked down into the eyes of his witch. She was sure. She was strong.

"There are going to be a lot of babies, Daphne." Ron grinned and placed his hand over her stomach. "I can feel it inside you."

Daphne blinked slowly and a wide smile bloomed across her face.

"I think you have something I need to feel inside me first." She yanked him down into a kiss.

He heard the laughter of other couples similarly concealed around them. He reached out with his magic and grinned. He knew they would all be round before the wheel of the year turned again. The war had taken so much from them. He'd been so lost in counting it that he'd forgotten that magic heals. He closed his eyes for a second and willed his thanks out into the world.

A familiar burst of laughter swirled around him. He felt it in the magic pulsing up from the ground and down from the sky. His magic surged up in an answer as he kissed his lovely witch.

"Name her after me."


	5. Lithia

Draco guided Astoria deftly through the crowd milling about the gardens of the Nott demesne. The place was in fine fettle. The sun shone down on the greenery giving the guests bits of dappled shade. Flowers bloomed. Birds sang. It was beautiful. The artfully arranged gardens appeared almost natural, but the pattern was discernible. There was no doubt that Theo was putting on a show for the pureblood faction. Everything was perfect. Everything was designed to display his devotion to his lady.

The more cynical guests would say it was the act of a true Slytherin to marry the most visible female of the winning side. Draco was sure most of the old biddies were comforting themselves with such thoughts, sure his father was thinking the same, but he was happy to see them proved wrong. The love between Hermione and Theo was no affectation.

It was real.

Draco watched as his oldest friend moved through the crowd with a crown of greenery resting on his dark hair. Sage, mint, and basil were braided intricately with the tiniest of lavender blooms. His moss green robes were tailored simply. Magic seemed to flow around him, gathering to cloak him in power as the sun moved higher in the sky. A midsummer wedding for the house of night seemed out of place, but balance was important.

Theo truly looked the part of the god about to join his goddess and renew magic's bonds for another cycle. There was a glow about him, an aura of joy.

Draco felt a touch overdone in his own formal robes. It was decidedly odd to feel less he was in less than fine fettle. He'd expected the perfect society wedding and wandered into a true display of power.

Theo was comfortable in his own skin. He smiled with ease as Gryffindors took his measure and Slytherins looked askance at him. He was amiable because he chose it.

"He looks good." Astoria squeezed Draco's arm. "We should pay our respects."

Draco nodded. It was the right thing to do. He knew it. There were protocols and social demands he knew without any effort. Congratulating Theo on this day was required. He knew it, but he didn't want to do it.

"You need to move passed this." Astoria pulled him forward gently. "You hurt him, but he's better for it."

Draco closed his eyes. He'd hurt her, too. It went unsaid. He'd done such horrible things, so many horrible things. He dragged a breath in through his teeth.

"If I can move passed it, surely, he can." Astoria patted his arm with her fingers. "He's your best friend."

Draco opened his eyes and nodded. It was all he could do. Words failed him. He let Astoria guide him toward the groom. The other guests were nothing more than a cacophonous blur.

Suddenly, they were facing each other as they so often had through the years. Theo smiled slightly. There was no sign of malice in him, but there never would be. Not with Theo.

The blade would slide through his ribs while Theo smiled with welcome.

He was a Nott, after all.

"Congratulations." Astoria leaned on Draco coquettishly. "Everything looks lovely."

"All of it pales when compared with Hermione. I assure you." Theo grinned. "The elves are quite taken with her. She told them to do what they thought best. I think they enjoyed decorating again. It has been quite a while."

"I suppose there hasn't been much to celebrate." Draco glanced around them.

"I'm going to go chat with Daphne." Astoria broke free of him and headed off toward her sister with a spring in her step.

"You invited her?" Draco raised a single blond brow. "To your wedding?"

"She came with Weasley." Theo shrugged. "Hermione is actually the tiniest bit fond of her. Apparently, her being faithless was a gift."

"I guess that's one way to look at it." Draco stiffened.

"It took me a while to figure it out. You did a good job of making me hate you both." Theo sighed.

"I have no idea what you mean." Draco took a step back. There was no easy avenue of escape. The other guests were heading toward the circle.

"You freed me from Daphne." Theo gripped his shoulder. He could feel the strength flowing through his dark haired friend. "You seduced her to save me. Despite all those years we spent planning our futures, you risked everything to help me."

Draco sighed as relief flooded through him. Theo had put some of it together, but he didn't know everything. He didn't know the full truth.

"Daphne wasn't good for you." Draco examined the shine on his dragon hide shoes. "She's not a bad person, but the two of you are very different."

"I would have stayed true to the obligation." Theo's hand fell to his side. "I would have been miserable."

"I should have found another way." Draco glanced over at his friend. "I should have found a way that didn't hurt so many people."

"You care for Astoria?" Theo nodded in answer to his own question. "When did you realize?"

"After." Draco shrugged. "She didn't wilt, and she didn't let me waltz away either. She's absolutely terrifying in her disappointment. I've never felt that way before."

"Masochist." Theo grinned. "Are you going to start failing at things just so you can face her wrath?"

"I wouldn't survive it." Draco shook his head and grinned. "She's creative, too."

"Creative and terrifying." Theo smirked. "She's perfect for you."

"She is." Draco nodded. It was true. "Go marry your perfect witch so we can make merry on this fine Midsummer."

"As you command." Theo stepped back into a courtly bow complete with flourished fingers and apparated away.

Draco closed his eyes and thanked the kindness of the gods and goddesses for their small mercies. He knew he was undeserving. It had never been about saving Theo. It had always been about her. Since her fist connected with his nose in third year, it had always been about Hermione.

He'd been trapped in a miasma of guilt, lust, and confusion by her from that moment on. She'd stood there, a Valkyrie in muggle clothes, and his world had plunged into confusion. She was the smartest witch, the best witch. None of the purebloods measured up to her. His father, his whole family, had taught him that such a thing was simply not possible. There she stood with contempt in her eyes and his blood on her knuckles, in all of her improbable glory.

He blinked away the memory. He had no business thinking of her like that. Their lives were adjacent not intertwined.

He'd spent years fighting the attraction. Years spent watching her and learning her. He'd even attempted to protect her a time or two.

He'd tried, but, when the time came, he wasn't wizard enough.

He'd watched as she writhed and screamed and lied. He'd watched his deranged aunt push her further than any being had ever lasted. Letting Potter take his wand was all he had, all he could do.

It wasn't enough.

The guilt brought unrelenting nightmares. Seeing her at various events after the war had only exacerbated the problem. He sighed.

His first love.

She'd been that in a way though she'd never known it. He'd adored her from afar. Watching her suffer after the war had ripped him apart.

None of her so called friends even noticed, but he had seen. She'd grown more and more remote. Her smiles had become far more rare than ebony unicorns.

He couldn't be in her presence without seeing her, there at that worst moment. The guilt forced him to true self examination. He loved her in a childish way. He wasn't wizard enough for her. He wasn't strong enough to stand beside her. The faded and twisted scar on his arm was proof of that.

He wasn't the right one, but Theo was.

It hadn't taken much.

A seduction and a betrayal.

He'd waited for his magic to fight him, to punish him, but it hadn't. Life had resumed with all its usual banality. He'd grown fond of the young witch that would be his wife.

Theo had swept Hermione up into the courtship dance as he'd intended. Their relationship was held as an example of the new, post war order. It had all worked as he'd planned.

The penance he'd thought to pay had somehow fallen off.

He walked along the festooned garden path and tried to smile. The sage garlands were mixed with verbena and an assortment of flowers he didn't bother to identify. The chatter of the guests ahead filled the air with an abstract sound, living but not exacting. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was nearing its apex and all was right in his world.

Astoria fell into step beside him taking her rightful place with ease, and he cocked his arm for her hand. It was the proper thing to do, but there were fringe benefits to feeling her magic slide along his. There was comfort in her touch.

"I didn't know he had a second circle." Astoria glanced toward the soft glow flowing through the trees. "It isn't as grand."

Draco smiled at the unasked question in her observation.

"It's the tradition with the Nott family. Their sons belong to the Holly King and their daughters to Áine, the goddess of summer and love." He shrugged. "The second lord married an Irish witch. There's a tapestry she made in the library. It's quite a thing."

"I suppose all our families have their quirks." Astoria smiled up at him. "I'm not looking forward to waiting a tiara of braided grass."

"I"m more concerned with my mother's attempts to drag Potter into the event as a member of the Black family. She doesn't understand his reticence." Draco rolled his eyes. "We held him against his will and tortured his best friend, but she thinks he should respect our ways."

"She doesn't understand that our ideals are changing. I'm proud of my lineage, but I looked over the family tree and spotted a few oddities." She quirked a brow. "There are witches with no family affiliations listed."

"Every tree has a few of those. Our culture is mostly patriarchal." Draco shook his head. "Could you imagine the chaos some of the women in my family tree would have caused if it wasn't?"

"I don't think they lacked power or importance. i think they lacked pedigree." Astoria shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I think they were powerful witches born on the wrong side of the divide. It was easier to hide those things back then."

"No such thing as pureblood?" Draco fought the mounting urge to laugh. "Goddess, that's sweet. We tore our world apart over nothing at all."

"You already knew that." Astoria patted his arm with her gloved fingers.

"Yes." He swallowed as the circle came into view and his eyes focused on Hermione. "I did."

Garnets and amber adorned her hair like drops of molten sunshine accentuating the delicately worked gold of her oak leaf crown as her magic flared out igniting the large carved candles at the base of each stone. Even the rustling leaves in the trees stilled as silence reigned around them. There was no doubt that she called forth the power. The bigots that saw this union as a maneuver blinked eyes suddenly divested of scales.

Theo stood, braced as her power surged and whirled around him. His robes fluttered and the greenery perched on his head appeared to dance, but he did not flinch or give way. Her magic flared and danced as it began to glow golden in the bright sunlight.

The murmurs of the crowd around him returned as Draco watched Theo hold his hand out. It wasn't an imperious gesture. It was an offer. Hermione glided toward his outstretched hand and clasped it. His magic rose up in gentle tendrils from the very earth and wrapped around hers. The radiant silver of his magic mixed with the vibrant gold of hers, forcing many guests to turn their heads.

Draco fought the urge to look away. The light wouldn't damage him. He knew that. Astoria turned her face into his shoulder and he patted her hand gently as he watched the vague shapes of his best friend and Hermione join their lives and magic together for all time. He didn't focus on their words. Words were nothing in the face of this.

The final vow was spoken and the magic flared up in a column climbing toward the sun as it reached its apex. Draco felt his own power begin to rise before it settled back into him. Their magic flared further on. The stones began to vibrate, filling the air with a wild music.

Some of the old biddies swooned.

The sound seemed to wake the earth. The power that slumbered deep in the earth reached up toward the couple and pulled them back to their realm once more. The sun slipped from its high point leaving the bride and groom glowing and panting in the circle.

Draco shifted his weight slightly as the magic pulsed around them and retreated. He could see the couple clearly as the nimbus of power faded and the runes that would bind them eternally formed on their arms.

The tableaux they presented was entrancing. Her free arm was wrapped around his neck as his lifted her up and held her tight to his body. It was most provocative.

The crones would be carrying on about it for months. Their offended gasps and the fluttering of the odd fan were all the divination he needed. He doubted the happy couple cared even the tiniest bit.

When the broke apart, the last of the flaring aura around them faded away. The sunlight dappled the ground through the oak trees' leaves and the birds sang. Theo raised their hands and displayed the metallic runic patterns sliding along their skin in celebration. The crowd erupted in noise, both polite congratulations and rather more boisterous exclamations from the more outspoken Gryffindors.

Draco followed along as the day moved toward evening. It was easy enough to do what was expected. He smiled and flattered. He ate the food and danced with his fiancée.

Astoria kept him steady when he faltered and smirked up at him in private moments of humor. Her calm presence soothed him during the awkward interaction with Potter and the Weasley horde.

When Theo brought his bride over to them, he fell into the indoctrinated manners of his upbringing and bowed his head slightly.

"I'd like to dance with your lady." Theo held his hand out to Astoria. "Would you take care of my bride for a bit?"

Draco straightened and nodded. Hermione kissed Theo's cheek and, suddenly, it was them, alone in the crowd.

"So, do you want to dance or stand here awkwardly?" Hermione smirked up at him.

No ghost of the past rose up. Her eyes were warm and friendly.

He found they were dancing and didn't remember how it had happened. She was gliding along with him, sharing the occasional nod with her acquaintances. It was all very correct.

She shifted and tightened her fingers on his shoulder, and he looked down at her. He wasn't quite sure what to say to her. Their lives hadn't led them to be easy with each other.

"You know, I quite fancied you sixth year." Hermione smiled up at him with mischief readily apparent on her face. "Harry was convinced you were up to no good. He practically stalked you. I twitted him constantly about it, but I was just as bad. You looked so morose, so handsome, so brooding. I was ready to save you from a life of ranging about on the moors with your hounds."

Draco managed a chuckle as a myriad of possibilities lost rose before him. He looked about at their surroundings. It never boded well for one to dwell on those things that might have been. Astoria waved at him from her place in his best friend's arms. He felt a swell of contentment rise in his chest. He looked down into Hermione's face again and smiled genuinely for the first time in so very long.

"You did save me." Draco spun them in a quick circle and smiled as she followed flawlessly. "You really did."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note_**

 _I am rather hopelessly behind on all my stories. This one was finished from Harry's point of view, but I scrapped it because it felt wrong. Then real life rose up and ate away my free time like a monster. The next installment will be along soon. I know it is also late, but Luna seems quite agreeable._

 _Hope you enjoyed this belated celebration._

 _Thank you all for your support and kindness. It means the world to me._

 _Check out Trinkisme's stories. They got me through some rough patches recently. She brilliant and wonderful._


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